Matter
by Keep calm. We have hulk
Summary: She let him get away with far more than she should... And he really couldn't decide if that was amazing or terrible.


**So… Yes. Yet another Doctor Who thing. I love the show, and I was having trouble with a few of my longer fics, so I decided to spit out another one-shot. Now, I know not everybody is as big a fan of Doctor/Rose stuff as I am, but if you have something against them, please keep your comments to yourself. I dislike flames.**

**Anyways, about this piece – not my best work. I had a few fragments of things I was going to use for a different fanfic in one of my many journals, but when I abandoned the idea a while ago and decided I didn't want the material going to waste. SO, I adapted them, typed them up, and sent them to my beta-reader/fan/manager/friend (lokfan323) and here it is – posted. I hope you all enjoy it. Don't forget to read and review!**

She honestly let him get away with far more than she should've… And he really couldn't decide if that was amazing or terrible.

It was absolutely lovely, sometimes. When she would loop her arm through his, smiling one of those gorgeous Rose Tyler smiles she smiled with her tongue between her teeth that practically had him melting into a puddle of Timelord goo, bumping her shoulder against his playfully, he thought the former. Her eyes would crinkle at the edges, and then her nose would screw up and a laugh would bubble up from her throat when he said something flirty or rambly or just downright stupid. When they relaxed against each other, either laughing (or not) as they tried to regain their breath post-running for their lives, or simply sprawled across each other in the library or some such place enjoying a day off from saving the universe, he wondered how _anything _with Rose Tyler could be terrible. He would catch himself staring at random points in either conversation or silence, and would always say something very, _very_ daft and usually not related to anything previous that would make her laugh, shaking her head, sending her blond hair settling across her shoulders and his eyes staring at her again. When they floated through the vortex on the lightheartedly dubbed 'Lazy Sundays' within the TARDIS and she would open the blue doors of the time machine to look out at it all, and he'd sit her down against him so he could point out all the stars and constellations to her, and see her dark bright eyes shine looking out into the universe and feel her back pressed against his chest as she would tilt her head back to look at every galaxy, star, and constellation her human eyes could see, well… He couldn't think of anything better.

He loved when they did things like that. When she let him do things like that. They did a lot of things together – save the universe, run, argue, read in the library, stay up late into the night talking – and he treasured every moment with her, he really did, but he liked those moments especially, the ones where she let him get away with things. He adored them because he got to be self-indulgent; got to hold her hand as they ran for their lives, got to brush her soft blond hair out of her face when she laughed, got to feel her weight pressed against his body during the quiet moments in between adventures. He loved it because he got to do all of the things he had been so _afraid_ to do back then when his nose and ears had 'special powers', and his voice was laced with a thick northern accent. It was selfish, indulging upon her like he did, but he couldn't quite bring himself to stop. She didn't seem to mind their interactions – on the contrary – but he knew she was always dying to ask exactly what they _meant_. But she never asked, and he never told, and they continued the little dance they danced through time and space, saving lives, kicking ass, and taking names, and he loved it, because it was everything he considered his liberty.

But it was terrifying, too.

It scared him so much he couldn't think, sometimes, and kept him awake on the rare occasions it would have been better if he'd been asleep. It frightened him how he fell a little harder every time she let him get away with things like tucking her in at night or holding her hand long after they'd stopped running. It frightened him how he always found himself lingering, leaning a little closer, looking a little deeper, letting her creep further and further into his life – even the parts that were dark and dangerous and without any light. She was his best mate and he was hers, and he liked to pretend they were good for each other sometimes, but in truth, she was very, very good for him and he was the exact opposite for her. (_And _oh_, how he hated that._) Her friendship was safe and comforting, something he could run to, but it was also a maelstrom of turbulent waters, because he wasn't so sure friendship was all it was anymore. He was absolutely, completely, and utterly _terrified_ of the power she suddenly had over him, of how much she suddenly _mattered_.

**Sorry for the shortness. Hope you all liked it anyway. Leave a review?**


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